


Mask

by marchingjaybird



Category: DCU - Comicverse
Genre: F/F, Porn Battle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-18
Updated: 2010-01-18
Packaged: 2017-10-06 10:10:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marchingjaybird/pseuds/marchingjaybird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Renee drops in for a late night visit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mask

Renee comes in through the window, and Kate is amused.

Ever since she started wearing the mask, she's eschewed the use of the door, an affectation that Kate finds both endearing and frustrating. It is one thing to be awakened by a rapping at the door – or in her case, by the butler who answers the rapping at the door – and quite another to feel gloved fingers drawing across skin still sensitive from sleep. But there's no discouraging her, and Kate isn't sure she'd ever want to in any case. The sex, unexpected and masked, is just that much better.

It's the water that wakes her up, dripping cold against her neck, and she rolls over, fingers smoothing along Egyptian cotton sheets. "Is it raining?" she asks. "Or did you fall into the river?"

"Does it matter?" comes the anticipated answer. Renee doesn't like to talk before sex; that is reserved for afterwards, when the stress of performance has been laid to rest again. She rests one knee on the edge of the mattress, looming above Kate. Any other woman would have been terrified by the dark figure, featureless but full of intent. To Kate, that unbridgeable distance is mysteriously sexy.

"You stayed home tonight." There's the suggestion of a question in the upward lilt of Renee's voice as she swings a leg across, straddling Kate's hips.

"Sometimes even I need beauty sleep," Kate answers. The truth is, she was out earlier and cracked her pelvis in the course of rescuing a group of girls. It's an ignominious end to a night of crime fighting, but it's hard to kick ass when you can barely walk. Renee snorts and lowers her featureless face. Gloved hands creep up Kate's thighs, pushing her nightgown aside.

She spreads her legs, ignoring the twinge, glad for once that Renee prefers to tease. There's never roughness until she's out of the costume, and with the mask gone, Kate will have no qualms about filling her in on the newly fragile state of her hips. Now, though, when Renee is a shadow behind a mask, it seems like confession, and Kate is wholly unprepared for that.

Leather-cased fingers slip between her legs and drag lightly around her clit. She knows this dance, loves it, and warmth floods her belly. Renee's free hand rests briefly between her breasts, warning her to stillness, and Kate bites her lower lip. She's already shuddering in anticipation though she knows that this is a game that could last for hours depending on Renee's mood. The longer it draws out, the faster she'll come when one of those cool fingers finally flicks across her clit. Until then, it's torture.

Renee bends over her and water patters down from her hair and the brim of her hat, washing Kate in sudden cold. She cries out, arches up, and is met by Renee's mouth. She can feel lips working beneath the strange texture of the mask, tiny flutters of movement that pulse against her skin like a distant heartbeat. Renee works her way down then up, leaving a tingling V-shaped trail across Kate's belly, from breast to navel and back again. It ends at her nipple and Kate whimpers as she twists against the sheets, straining to feel those minute, haunting movements.

Renee's finger dips down suddenly, the very tip penetrating and then slipping back out almost as fast. Kate hisses between her teeth, bucks her hips in spite of the pain. She needs more, the full length of a finger, the pleasant fullness of two, the soft ache of three. She chews on her lip. The finger, cruel as ever, returns to circle her clit.

"Renee!" she says sharply. The fingers of Renee's free hand close on her nipple, twisting and rolling it gently between chilly layers of soft leather. Kate gasps and twitches her hips again. Pleasure and need are a pulsing wave now, hot then cold. If she doesn't get some satisfaction soon, she's going to explode. Her body is already straining towards climax and Renee has barely even touched her.

"I wish you knew how much I love this," Renee answers. Her voice is dark with amusement. Kate wonders if she's half as insufferable in _her_ mask, then forgets she ever thought such a thing as sudden pleasure rips through her.

Renee crooks her finger, dragging the leather-clad tip across Kate's swollen clit. Three times and she's coming, eyes screwed shut, muscles fluttering in desperate ecstasy, and just when she hits the peak of her climax and cries out, Renee's fingers slip down and glide in, flicking and twisting and pushing Kate up and over into another, softer orgasm.

She shudders against the sheets, sinking down into her pillow and smiling lazily up at her visitor. "Will you take the mask off now?" she murmurs. Renee shifts away and begins to disrobe, clothes falling onto the floor in a haphazard pile. The mask she removes with more care, and Kate turns away to allow her that small privacy. It's a strange thing, taking your mask off, after all.

Seconds later, Renee slides into bed and wraps her arms around Kate's waist. Her lips, soft and warm, kiss lazy figure eights along the back of Kate's neck. "Hey, Kate," she murmurs. "Someone got water all over your sheets."

"Yeah," Kate answers, shrugging out of the embrace and slipping down beneath the sheets. "It was my other girlfriend."


End file.
